


H&M - Of Horses and Men

by reynkout



Series: Retail Store Epics [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Retail, Dressing Rooms, Jacking off, Just Sex, Kissing, M/M, No Plot, Plotless Sex, Sexy Times, Shopping, dressing stalls, handjobs, jeanmarco, jerking off, marcojean - Freeform, new jeans, retail store, shopping at the mall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:39:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reynkout/pseuds/reynkout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Bodt needs some new jeans, if you know what I mean. The collection he owns is already so many years old; many of them are starting to fall apart. Now at the mall with Sasha, his friend Connie's girlfriend, Marco is in search for some nice-fitting jeans. When he is forced into the store H&M, he discovers something new about jeans... and an employee named Jean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	H&M - Of Horses and Men

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally on vacation without worrying about stress and life (until tomorrow). I went to Anime Expo this weekend, and even went to the SnK meet! Wow, you guys. I was blown away. My friend and I dressed up as Mikasa (friend) and Annie (me), with a Jean-as-a-horse joke Military Police on the back of my [oops] Survey Corps jacket. Too many people liked our thing. But yeah, I liked the gathering. It was fun.  
> Uhh, so... I got inspired to write and create a series of stories for Marco and Jean dealing with retail stores. I am really sorry, everyone. I just can't help it. It flows from my mind like a natural water source.  
> Enjoy...? Hopefully?

Marco needed new jeans. Like seriously, the ones he had right now were threadbare at the edges and barely hanging in there. He’d ignored it for several months, rolling up his pant legs to hid the tattered bottoms but now he would have to wear high-waters due to the state his jeans were in.

“Dude,” Connie told him one day, “You seriously just need to go shopping. Like, come on. You need to not look like you’ve been living on the streets.”

Marco rolled his eyes. “Really? Do I actually look that bad? Didn’t know you were the fashionista, man.”

“I’m _not_ ,” spat Connie. “But my girlfriend is. Hello? Sasha? Ring-a-ding-ding?”

“Wait,” Marco was confused. “You mean Sasha, as in Sasha Braus?” Connie nodded his cueball head. “I thought she only liked food, especially potatoes. Like that one time she came to PE with her lunch, which was a baked potato by the way, stuffed half-way in her mouth because apparently she was late and didn’t hear the lunch bell ring--,”

“Oh, shut your trap, Marco. There’s more to Sasha than just food.”

“Yeah, and you should know.” Marco laughed, giving his friend a nudge in the stomach, winking at him more than once. Connie almost doubled over.

“Okay, ew, stop it! And also, it’s not like _you_ would be all sainty when you’re dating someone either.” Connie blushed. Marco giggled. “Fine, so anyway, I say that you and Sasha go to the mall and buy some new clothes for you,”

“Wait, what?”

“That’s right. I already texted her and she’s up to being your fashion expert.”

Marco sighed, smiling. “Alright, you got me. I’ll go.”

And so it was Saturday when Marco and Sasha took a bus to the biggest mall in Trost. As soon as they entered, Sasha apologized, running off to a vending machine. Marco just stood there, not really sure what to do. Was he supposed to just go off by himself? But, thankfully, the girl returned with a big bag full of chips.

“Sorry,” she said. “Want some?”

Marco declined. He put his hands up, shaking his head. “Naw, I’m good.”

The two walked around, window shopping until they reached a store specifically for jeans: Levi’s. Marco stared in awe at the selection of denim they had. They had vests, jackets, shorts, sweaters, shirts and plenty of other accessories. This place was totally top-notch to Marco. And to think he really had been living under a rock his entire life… well, maybe he really had.

Just as he was about to ask Sasha which pair of jeans he was holding up in his hands, an employee came barking in their direction.

“What in the hell are you doing?” A short man came strutting his way to Sasha.

“Is there a problem, Sir?” She seemed to back down from him.

“A problem? A problem, she says. Of course there’s a fucking problem.” the guy spat. “Did you not see the sign out in the front? No. Food. Period.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t notice it. Maybe if it was a little bigger…”

“A little bigger and then it would fill up the entire store window!” Okay, clearly this dude had some issues. “Stop that! You’re getting crumbs all over the floor.”

Marco grabbed the chip bag from Sasha, hiding it behind his back. “We’re sorry, Sir, uh,” He peered at the employee’s name tag. “Levi? Seriously? Like, your name is Levi and you’re working for Levi’s?”

“You got a fucking problem with that?” Levi griped.

“N-no, no way man, haha. Just, just thought that it was a little funny is all.” Oops, wrong thing to say. Before they knew it, both Marco and Sasha were thrown out of the store with the chips confiscated.

Sasha sighed, clapping her companion on the back. “Don’t worry Marco, I bet Levi was just grumpy because he saw me eating and he was starving. Jealousy issues. Anyway, there’re plenty of other stores that are even better than Levi’s.”

Marco tilted his head back, staring at the mall’s ceiling. He internally asked himself if a shopping spree was really what he wanted, or if he should just call it a day and go home. Well, not exactly. He would have to ditch Sasha for that, and probably come off like he didn’t like her or something. Connie would be fuming if he did that. So, at that point, the freckled man really didn’t have an escape route that would totally not offend his friends and their efforts to help him not look like a hobo.

They walked around the whole first floor, Sasha dragging him into Hot Topic once to see what type of grungy stuff she could find for him. Marco refused to try on some black leather pants that Sasha recommended him. He refused, believing that they would most likely turn him into a girl after such a tight fit. The girl laughed, her ponytail bobbing as she took his arm and led him straight to the second floor of the mall. When they stopped, Marco stood at the front of another store, not all punk like the one he had just been in, but one that looked classy. Stylish, even, in his eyes.

Marco stood at the entrance of H&M. Hennes and Mauritz.

“What are you waiting for? Go in!” Sasha exclaimed, pushing the man inside.

Finally, they got to business. Marco was able to find five pairs of jeans to take with him to the fitting room; three slimfit, one bootleg, and the other straight. Sasha wished him good luck and said she’d be in the womens’ section shopping for her own clothes as he waited in line to get his own dressing stall.

When he did, he was assisted by a girl whose name was, because she said it, Petra. She led him to his dressing room. Marco thanked her, then closed the curtain behind him. Strange, it seemed that this H&M had curtains as doors instead of actual doors. No matter; Marco got busy and stripped himself of his hideous high-waters.

The slimfits were perfect. Marco had enough space to feel comfortable, even if the calf part of the jeans felt a little tight at first. But that was the style, wasn’t it? He had chosen a stone-washed blue, a pastel seafoam color, and a neutral black. He’d also brought along some yellow shorts to the dressing room, unbeknownst to Sasha. Those looked pretty good, too. Loose, comfy and stopped just above his knees. The bootleg was fine. It flared out at the bottom, and Marco could see himself wearing this with the yellow CAT construction boots that his friend from Germany gifted him, swearing that it was super in-fashion right now. When he came to try on the straight, he felt it was snug. Pretty okay, he thought.

“Everything okay in there, Sir?” Marco heard a voice ask. He peeked through the curtains, only to meet eyes with sharp, whiskey colored ones.

The owner of those eyes was slim yet had a good build, his pants a little loose at the bottoms although it was meant to cling like skinny jeans. His hair was a two-tone color, like he dyed the longer, top section a platinum while his undercut was a natural dirty blonde. But God, that face. The sculpted jaw, sharp eyes, arched eyebrows, a thin and sharp nose, and thin lips that became more pinkish red towards the middle. Marco was almost certain he was gaping at the guy.

“Uh-huh,” he managed to stutter out. “I’m great.”

“Fantastic,” the guy smiled. Even his teeth were amazing. “Let me know if you need any assistance, okay? I’ll be there to help. Can I ask what you brought with you to try on?”

“Ummm,” Marco stalled. Suddenly, his pants were a little too tight. Damn hormones. The crotch area was starting to bulge. “Just some jeans, I-I’m…” He fumbled to pull the zipper down, but it wouldn’t budge. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Hmm? Well, it seems to me that you might need some help with those jeans,” The guy’s grin looked pretty devilish right now. “Mind if I come in?”

“Naw, dude, I’m like…” Marco started to shy away from the curtains, but the guy snuck his way into his dressing room, closing the curtains behind him.

Marco attempted to hide his growing erection. Damn, the dude was hot. And damn, why couldn’t he just control himself? And _why_ was this hot hunk in his dressing stall with him? Marco’s little buddy was starting to cry out for attention.

“Looks like you got yourself in a tight situation, Sir.” the guy smirked. “Lucky for you, I’m an expert at jeans… since, well, my name is Jean.” Jean pronounced his name like the word “jeans”. In all actuality, his name was French. He was French.

Marco’s palms were sweaty. He was cornered by Jean with a boner that would love to be rammed up Jean’s ass. He shook his head; bad thoughts, bad thoughts, no nononono! His face was hot, and he was pretty sure he was blushing.

“Why don’t I,” Jean kneeled so that his face was at Marco’s crotch area. “help you out a bit with that zipper?” He nuzzled his face into the denim fabric, feeling the hardness of Marco’s erection. He began to mouth at it.

Marco let out a guttural groan. What Jean was doing to him made him want to slap himself yet, at the same moment, press his hips up into Jean’s lips. And that’s exactly what his body did.

“Like that?” Jean looked up at him through thick dusted, dark blond lashes. He tongued at Marco’s ever-growing bulge.

“Mm,” Marco pursed his lips together, doing his best to keep quiet.

Jean palmed at his erection with his right hand, then unbuttoned the jeans. He slid the zipper down oh-so-slowly making the other giving out a breathy sigh, his lips parting. He nearly devoured the freckled man’s cock through his briefs, wetting it with his saliva. Marco was leaking precome all over, and he was pretty sure Jean could taste it through the fabric.

When Jean moaned though, _oh_ , the vibrations upon his cock were exquisite. He did his best not to reciprocate vocally, putting a fist to his mouth. Instead, he pushed his waist up, signalling for more. Jean was more than happy to comply.

The blond got the message, pulling down the waistband. Marco’s erection sprang up, painfully hard. He wanted Jean to take him into his hot mouth, but the blond stood and instead undid his pants. When both mens’ pricks rubbed together, Marco’s eyes rolled back into his skull. Jean grasped both of them in his warm palm, stroking them firmly. Marco gasped when Jean ran a finger over his slit, teasing his foreskin with his other fingers. He put his hand on top of Jean’s, taking over control. He stroked them with desperate urge to hurry up and come.

Marco rutted up against the blond man, thrusting up into his hand. He closed his eyes when he felt a pair of soft lips descend onto his, sinfully twisting this way and that to get Marco to open up his mouth for more. Jean shoved his tongue into the brunette’s cavern, fucking it. They battled, swirling their tongues together and exploring the other’s mouth. Their teeth clinked together, lips smashed against one another’s. Marco let go of Jean’s hand on their cocks to thread his fingers into Jean’s hair.

Apparently, the make out session was really pleasing to Jean as he jerked them off in a steady rhythm. Marco was completely complying to everything. He’d even forgotten that Jean was a man he’d just met only today, in a dressing room at H&M. Oh Lord, he was so turned on, it hurt.

The blond broke the kiss, panting. “Your freckles are so hot, damn it.” he muttered.

Marco moaned in response. “Gonna, Jean, I really gotta,” he said. “really, really gotta come,”

Jean stroked them faster, harder, trying to rip the orgasm out of both their bodies. “Come for me, Freckles,” he groaned loudly. “Come on, babe. Your cheeks are so flushed that even your freckles are blushing.”

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Marco couldn’t breathe correctly. He was so close. A few more strokes and he’d be coming all over Jean’s hand.

“No, no no,” he whined when Jean slowed. “Jeannn,” He used the pronunciation of Jean’s name like “jeans”.

Jean chuckled, but moaned when Marco reached down again and took over, jerk their cocks faster and faster until he was coming. Marco couldn’t help it; he bit into the blond guy’s shoulder, spilling his seed into their hands. He could see sparks in the back of his eyes, drawing out a groan as he came.

When he came to, the brunette man was already wiping away the evidence of their little frick-frack with a tissue from his pocket. Marco couldn’t help but want to hide his face from Jean. Jean assisted Marco out of the jeans and back into his terrible high-waters.

“In truth, I’m not a jean expert.” said Jean. “My name isn’t ‘Jean’, by the way. It’s pronounced Jean, like ‘John’.

Marco widened his eyes, bitch-slapping Jean square in the face. “You lied to me?” His heart rate went up. “You lied to me! You _traitor_!” A pause. Both men commenced in snogging each other’s faces. When they finally calmed down and parted lips, Marco squeezed Jean’s ass, finding a marker in the back pocket that just happened to be available.

He uncapped the pen, grabbed a handful of Jean’s shirt, and scrawled his number across it. Marco slipped the marker back into the other’s pocket. He kissed him on the cheek before winking.

The store’s speaker blasted out the single hit from Carly Rae Jepsen as Marco took his jeans from the rack, handed the straight-cut one that he was previously stuck in to Jean and stalked out. He left Jean with a lopsided, goofy grin on his face.

_Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s my number, so call me maybe?_

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry.


End file.
